Finding Myself

In the beginning there was no heaven and no earth. There was no light and no sound. There was nothingness. Dark, quiet, spinning nothingness. 

And then there was sound. The birds chirped, the wind whistled through the trees, a Brooke bubbled on happily… wait… no…a brook!

A brook bubbled.

A brook bubbled happily over small, smooth stones, splitting the forest as it went along its merry way.

And then there was light. Blinding, searing light, burning right through my eyes and into my head making it pulsate and throb. I quickly closed my eyes again. Once again there was no light. I settled back down onto my mossy bed.

Much better.

And then there was pain. A sharp, stabbing pain in my big toe as if some ravenous forest beast was gnawing on my left foot.

Dammit. I kicked the beast off my bare toe and yelled for Rod.

“Rod!”

Ok, ‘yelled’ is a stretch. It was actually more like cotton mouthed whisper or a dehydrated croak. I settled once again into my moist, mossy bed, fidgeted to wiggle away from a stabby pain in my back as if I were lying on top of a half-drunk bottle of bourbon. I listened intently for a half croaked response from Rod.

Silence. 

Except for the annoyingly cheerful birds, the considerately whispery wind and the obnoxiously bubbly Brooke. 

BROOK!

Brook.

“Rod!”, I shouted again, this time kind of a croaky croak or a stern exclamation.

“Rod”, Someone shouted from a great distance.

“ROD” I shouted once more, now in a commanding, shouty voice.

As if in response to my shouty shouting, there was a loud crashy crashing sound directly overhead. Then another. And another. Each crashy sound closer than the last. It was as if Rod, startled awake by my shouty shouting, fell from the branch he was perched upon high up in a tree overhead and was crashing down about to…

“THUMP!!!” Rod landed mightily on top of me. We laid still for a moment, quietly checking if anything was broken. And trying to breathe.

Nothing appeared broken. We breathed again. And moaned. And whined like a couple of drunk bastards startled awake by a huge crashy fall and a huge crashy getting fell upon. Respectively. 

“Next time crash more gently, or land somewhere else”, I admonished Rod.

“Next time shouty shout more gently, or I shall crash even more furiously down upon you,” quipped Rod.

“Ok, Rod, I know this is your first time in one of my stories but dial it down a bit William Shatner. You’re trying too hard. Just talk normally”.

“Ok, ok, Ken”, replied Rod, “but admonish more quietly. My head is killing me.”

I shoved Rod off me unceremoniously and sat up holding my head to prevent spontaneous cranial combustion. I sat quietly a moment longer before shaking the sand and twigs from my hair.

“Hey, can you help me find my shoe?” I asked Rod. “I woke up to a vicious beast trying to devour my bare toe.”

“Yeah. Sure Ken” Rod agreed, “But first, have you seen my bourbon?”

I reached back to my mossy bed pulled out Rod’s half-drunk bottle of bourbon. We both took a couple quick slugs and unsteadily got to our feet.

“Rod!” the distant voice shouted again; this time closer.

“What?” he replied.

“I dunno,” I said, “but I think we came from that way, my shoe is probably over there.” I pointed toward a swath of matted grass and broken shrubbery. It formed a path through the forest as if two drunk bastards had stumbled through the woods, leaning against each other for balance.

“It doesn’t look familiar to me,” said Rod, “but I’ll take your word for it.”

After a good bit of stumbling through the forest, leaning on each other for balance, we ran into a group of villagers making their way toward us in a long, straight line. Each villager walked just far enough apart so that they could still see the next person. 

“Good morning!” I called out to the nearest villager, wincing slightly. “You guys picking elderberries or something?”

“Good morning,” replied the villager. “No. A couple drunk bastards from the village have gotten themselves lost out here last night. They were last seen leaving the Drunkity Drunk Saloon leaning on each other for balance. They headed this way into the forest and no one has seen them since.”

Rod and I naturally were quite concerned about the fate of those pretty cool sounding guys. Plus, we had just been at the Drunkity Drunk Saloon drinkity drinking the night before. It is quite possible that we knew them. Or at least that we had met them. We volunteered to take our place at the end of the line and help the search. 

Plus, they promised to look for my shoe.

I told them that we had just come from that direction right there, pointing toward a path through the forest that looked like two drunk bastards leaning on each other for balance had just passed. We had seen no one that way, I told them, and probably should search in a different direction. 

Thanking us for this valuable information, the villagers shifted their search line to the left and tried to pick up the trail of those two lost guys. After the search party had reorganized in that direction, we began calling out for the lost drunk guys with the villagers.

“Rod!”

“Ken!”

Author: Ken Gack

Ken did eventually find his shoe.